


A Woman Of Balnain

by DiverseMediums



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 15:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12634347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiverseMediums/pseuds/DiverseMediums
Summary: A one shot inspired by one of gotham-ruaidh’s many insightful and intelligent tumblr posts. Takes place in the brothel the night/early morning after Claire’s return. NSFW.





	A Woman Of Balnain

So many times in my life, I wondered if what was happening around me was real. A magician’s show when I was four. The night my parents died. An unexplainable archeological discovery whilst traveling the world with my uncle. The war years. My passage through the stones, the first time. My return to the twentieth century and the life I had lived there. 

I shivered and turned, seeking. Nothing was more real or immediate than the man lying beside me. My knowledge of him was marred by twenty years of separation, but he was warm and solid as he gathered me in and ran a large, comforting hand down my naked back. I felt the prickle of gooseflesh rise on my skin and inhaled a shaky breath, smelling the ink that stained his hands, his own sleepy scent mixed with the flowery fragrance of the rustling sheets that cocooned us, and the mingled scents from our earlier labors.   
We gazed at each other, not speaking.

All was quiet, but my internal clock felt it was a while yet until dawn. The light from the bedside candles sparked off of his hair and illuminated his eyes. I reached up, feeling the stubble along his jawline as I touched his face. The reality of my life may have been questionable in our time apart, but James Fraser was always real to me. Real and alive in memory, in heart, and through the daughter we created together. 

I watched my fingers skim over his shoulder, down his arm, then back up again. Our bodies moved minutely together, each small touch and shared breath it’s own peaceful, quiet dance. I shifted up, bringing my forehead to his. His was a face that could hide his thoughts, but he wasn’t hiding anything from me now. 

“What are you thinking?”

Jamie’s mouth curled up at the corners. He bent his head and kissed the ring on my right hand; his ring. I felt a bubble of happiness beneath my breastbone, pleased that I could still read him after all this time. 

“D’ye ken the song Gwyllyn the bard sang at Leoch? The song I translated for you, that night in the hall?” he asked, running a finger lightly down my cheek.

I closed my eyes, savoring his touch. 

“I remember.”

Jamie made an amused sound, his fingertips moving down my neck and settling lightly on my shoulder. 

“I was just thinking, the words are no less true for ye now. Aye?”

His voice quavered a bit at the end and I opened my eyes to see his face. His mouth was still curled, but his eyes were full of wary hope and hesitation. 

“I thought on that as I took ye from the witch trial. When I tried to send ye back, the first time. I’ve thought on it now and again since… since ye went.”

I could feel his heart beating heavily under my hand and my own heart squeezed in understanding. 

“Jamie,” I whispered. “Jamie, I will never leave you again. Never.”

I kissed his lips lightly; felt his hand gently grip my hip, anchoring me to him. 

“I am a woman of Balnain,” I whispered, pulling him closer so there was not a sliver of space between us. 

“The folk had stolen ye over again,” he quoted as I brushed a tear from his cheek, proving again that I was real.

“I stood upon the hill and the wind did rise…”

I shook, with tears and memory, the call of the stones ringing in my head. 

“The sound of thunder rolled across the land,” Jamie continued, rustling the worn sheets down to my waist and gently moving my leg over his hip. 

I could see Culloden in his eyes; the sound of cannon fire echoing between us. 

“I placed my hands… upon the tallest stone…”

Had felt Jamie’s body behind me, his face buried in my hair, at the last. When my soul was torn in two. 

“You traveled to a far distant land.”

His voice was full of desolation, of the fear and heartache of that day. Of all the space between then and now. I exhaled, trying to keep the sobs that threatened to wrench themselves from me at bay. 

“Where I lived for a time among strangers, who b-became lovers. And friends.”

A pause, as Jamie gazed at me, taking in the truth of the past twenty years. My glass face would tell him all he needed to know. He moved against me and my body met his in kind- a ballet of words and touches overshadowing dark memory. 

“But one day, ye saw the moon come out,” he said, shifting us. He exhaled shakily as he entered me, his breath fanning my lips as his hands stroked me. “And the wind rose once more.”

I met his languid thrusts, my eyes not leaving his, taking and keeping him in body and soul. As he held mine. 

“So I touched the stones,” I whispered, feeling his strong movements deep within me, pressing, urging me to stay. 

“And traveled back to yer own land.”

Jamie smiled then, eyes bright as he kissed me briefly, hands roaming my body as we melted into one another. 

“And took up again with the man I had left behind.”

We both whimpered then, moving together, rekindling the fire within each other that had so long been dormant. His body and soul called to mine in equal measure, making love to me in a slow tenderness that left us both trembling at the last.


End file.
